


Touch of Bellomi

by ItsaMePatches



Series: Touch of Bellomi series (WIL/Tonio) [1]
Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Excessive Drinking, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-04 19:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4149768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsaMePatches/pseuds/ItsaMePatches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a way to celebrate graduating high school, William Mori and his friends – Kyou Tsukino and Yuu Koizumi – travel to Italy for summer vacation. While the trio are there, they check out an “opera showcase” being held at Teatro Tammaro. In the meantime, Antonello Bellomi anxiously prepares himself for his first performance with the help of his teacher Primrose Bianchi. Once the showcase ends and everyone goes their own way, the shy William – who casually likes opera – has the honour of meeting Antonello.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I never honestly thought of doing a Vocaloid AU story because I didn’t think it was possible since there are little to no things which are canon in the world of Vocaloid. By the way, all of the songs mentioned are actual ones which Prima and Tonio have been used to sing for (mostly their demos), so if you want, you can search on YouTube (or NND) and listen along.

* * *

 

 

 **N** ames:  
 **W** illiam Mori - Wil  
 **K** you **T** sukino - Kyo  
 **Y** uu **K** oizumi - Yuu  
 **A** ntonello **B** ellomi - Tonio  
 **P** rimrose **B** ianchi - Prima

 

* * *

 

 

      The year was 2009 in Italy when a concert at Teatro Tammaro was to begin in ten minutes, displaying the theatre’s top opera singers of different ages, gender, and race or nationality. People from parts of the world even chose to come and visit the blossoming theatre upon hearing its reputation of obtaining _exquisite_ singers.  
  
      There was a man in particular who finished studying himself in the restroom mirror. Suits weren’t his favourite, and he was okay with admitting this aloud to his two friends who waited for him out in the theatre lobby. William Mori adjusted his black tie, his slender fingers brushing the fabric in his hold as he did so.  
  
      William and his two friends from high school – Kyou and Yuu – decided to go overseas from their home in Japan for a “celebration” present for themselves once they graduated, choosing Italy as the perfect vacation destination. To be honest, William was expecting to come here to simply ride on the little boats which rode in the water, not see an opera performance. Now, it wasn’t as though he was the kind who disliked opera – in fact, he had a liking for it after watching a few on a public television network – but he was surprised at the suggestion to actually see an opera performance live.   
  
      He stepped out of the bright and clean restroom, Kyou wrapped an arm around his shoulder while Yuu joined them with a potato skin hung in his mouth.  
“There you are! You were almost in there for five minutes, Wil! What took you so long?” Kyou demanded to know.

      “I was fixing myself up,” William replied, not phased by the arm on his shoulder, for he was used to Kyou doing this. “Were you behaving yourself while I was in there?”  
  
      “Of course I was! Why wouldn’t I be? And why are you only questioning me and not Yuu, too?”  
  
      William shot a smile over to Yuu, then he answered truthfully to the other man, “Because Yuu doesn’t misbehave like you do, Kyou.”  
  
      He huffed. “ _Anyway_ ,” he changed the subject, “let’s get going. They’re going to close the doors in five minutes…!”  
  
      Yuu, in the meanwhile, tilted his head back and let the remaining piece of potato skin drop into his mouth. After he licked his lips, the blonde asked Kyou, “Why did you want to come here, though? You never told us…”

      “Well…” Kyou wrapped his other arm around Yuu, earning a soft gasp from the youngest of the trio, as he briefly explained, “we’re here in Italy on vacation, opera is a pretty big attraction in Italy, and Wil is keen on opera.” He shot a glance to Wil, inquiring, “I mean, you do like opera, right? Did I get that assumption wrong?”  
  
      “I wouldn’t say you were entirely off with that statement.”  
      “See? This could be a treat for Wil! Besides, it’s nice to check out things we’ve never experienced before, Yuu.”  
  
      Yuu simply nodded.  
  
      “Good! Come on…” With a careful stride, Kyou began to lead his two buddies into the performance hall just as others started to pour through the double doors.

 

* * *

 

 

      Although she had been a familiar face to Teatro Tammaro since she was twelve-years old, Primrose Bianchi continued to feel excitement and pure anticipation upon performing in front of others or teaching future opera singers the rope of being an official member of the opera world. Now at twenty-six years of age, the Italian woman was slipping on her favourite set of ebony gloves as her eyes glanced at herself in the vanity mirror.  
  
      She beamed a bright smile, her heart aflutter.  
  
      “Perfect,” she whispered.  
  
      Ah, she could hardly restrain herself any longer! That never-ending sensation in her stomach was going out of control, for her love of opera was rather passionate when it came to the genre. She took hold of the dress straps, slipped her thumbs underneath them, and then she adjusted them to where she felt her shoulders become comfortable. Closing her eyes, Primrose ran a gloved hand through her hair for a moment. Primrose’s eyes opened then gazed to the clock hanging on the wall beside the dressing room door.  
  
      Suddenly, there was a knock.

      ’ _Right on time_ ,’ she thought with her smile present. Primrose, deciding to be clueless by not knowing who the person at the door could be, called out, “Yes? Who is it?”  
  
      A low mumble replied.  
  
      She chuckled gently. “What? I couldn’t hear you! Could you please speak up, dear?” Aware of the grin spreading to her face when she heard an annoyed sigh, she listened on with silence until she heard:  
  
      “Antonello. Could you let me in now?”  
      “It’s unlocked. Come on in.”  
  
      The door creaked wide then shut itself quietly. As Primrose began to put her wavy black hair back with a clip, her ears captured the sound of feet shuffling towards her. “Well,” she spoke to the young man whose reflection revealed itself in her mirror, “how are you feeling? This will be your very first public performance, after all, and I want to make sure you’re all right.”

      Antonello Bellomi – whose nickname might have been very relevant due to his gorgeous physique – had known Primrose for a total of two years as of now and soon became a favourite of her students during opera workshops. If one had to use one word to describe his personality, “hesitant” could be one of those choices. The tenor came off as shy, but not to where he was frightened to sing in front of hundreds.  
  
      His brown eyes watched Primrose place some lip gloss on her puckered lips before answering, “I’ll be fine.” Antonello ran both hands through his dark brown hair then straightened the bottom of the jacket he donned. “How about you?”  
  
      “Of course I’ll be okay during this evening. I live for this~…” She winked at him.  
  
      A sigh escaped him again. His hands went to the bow-tie and attempted to fix it. They remained quiet for a few seconds until Antonello broke the silence.  
         
      “Primrose?”  
      “Yes~?”  
      “I, erm–”  
      “Wait.”

      Antonello paused when Primrose lifted a hand then sniffed the air. There was something which reek of alcohol which made the older singer frown. Primrose turned to him whilst he averted eye contact with her.  
  
      “Antonello, were you drinking again?”  
      “A little.”  
  
      She huffed, immediately putting her hands to her curvy waist. “Look at me,” she commanded the man. When Antonello finally – though shyly – faced her, Primrose’s frown deepened at the red eyes and faint flush speckled on his olive skin. “ _Antonello_ , I can’t _believe_ you would do this when you _knew_ that we’re going on stage in…” she darted her eyes to the clock then to her student once again, continuing, “five _minutes_ …!”  
  
      He had a premonition Primrose would’ve reacted in this manner.

      “I needed it,” was his explanation, one which Primrose didn’t enjoy hearing.  
  
      “…do we need to talk about something else?”  
      “No, I’m–”  
      “You usually drink when something’s troubling you, dear.”  
  
      It was now Antonello’s turn to huff. “No I don’t. I have a martini or two when I’m relaxing also. How do you know whether or not I’m simply relaxed or stressed about not living up to everybody’s expectations?”  
  
      “Because I know you’re a perfectionist and have a self-esteem problem which you hardly want to acknowledge.”  
  
      He snapped, “I find nothing wrong with being a perfectionist.”  
  
      Sighing, Primrose said, “Being a perfectionist is a good _and_ bad thing, dear. It’s admirable; however, it’s also a stress inducer at times.”

      “I rarely get stressed!”  
      “Dear, I’ve seen how you were for several days after I told you that you were going to perform in the summer concert with professional singers…”  
  
      Antonello fell quiet. His eyes looked down at his feet as he muttered, “I was fine just like I am right now, _Miss Bianchi_.”  
  
      The soprano didn’t buy it; instead, she took his left hand into hers and led him to the restroom. “I’ve no time for this. Let’s freshen you up a little while we still have time.”

 

* * *

 

 

      “Excuse me! Pardon!” a red-haired teenager with freckles chimed out as she slid through the seated isles with a blonde man and woman followed her.  
  
      “Sonny, you don’t have to be so loud about excusing yourself,” the woman in the back told her eager cousin.  
  
      “Sorry Lola~…”  
  
      Leon, the name of the man of the group, spoke up, “Sonny, I thought we had a box seat. That’s the tickets that you ordered for us, right?”  
  
      She paused. “Wait, really?” Sonny looked back at them with a cocked brow. Once they nodded to her, the nineteen-year old whipped out the three tickets from her pockets. “ _Blimey_! How could I have forgotten?”  
  
      The three – within the middle of a row of seats – stood in silence.  
  
      “Well,” Sonny announced, “head back the way we came through and let’s get ourselves to our seats!”  
  
      The people in the seats – along with Leon and Lola – groaned with the audience having to squeeze their knees in for the trio to slide back out and the two siblings needing to shuffle their way through.  
  
      Meanwhile, William and his group finally found their own seating.

      “Perfect seats we’ve gotten,” Kyou commented as he sat in between his two graduate buddies.  
  
      “How long is this?” Yuu asked, fiddling with the programme pamphlet which they each were handed upon entering the hall.  
  
      “I think two hours.”  
      “You ‘think’…?”  
      “Well, I’m not really sure…”  
  
      William opened his pamphlet and scanned it until he spotted the date and time displaying themselves. “It says that it starts at eight and ends at ten, but depending on how everything will go, it could last longer.”  
  
      While Yuu nodded then stretched in his seat with a yawn, Kyou grinned at William, questioning, “Are you excited to see a live opera performance, Wil?”  
  
      “I guess so,” his reply – since he had a husky voice – was gentle as his eyes drifted around the packed performance hall. It felt a bit surreal to be here, due to never thinking he’d be able to come see an opera performance – well, a showcase of an opera, anyway.

      Kyou held in the laughter he wanted to let out while he asked something else, “Are you going to look for any attractive singers up there?”  
  
      “You’re lucky we’re in public and in an opera hall or else I would kick you in your knees.”  
  
      Yuu allowed himself to laugh – though it sounded more like a hushed giggle – whilst Kyou playfully stuck a tongue out at William through the noisy talking of other attendees for tonight. All of a sudden, everyone ceased everything they were doing when the lights dimmed and a single spotlight shinned downstage. A woman in her early twenties made her way underneath the spotlight, her red dress sweeping across the floor as she moved.  
  
      She brushed the left side of her fringe out of her bright brown eyes, then she said into the microphone she had in her other hand, “Hello and welcome to Teatro Tamarro’s fifth annual Summer Showcase! I’m Clara Azarola, and I’ll be your hostess for this lovely fine evening!”  
  
      Kyou whispered to William, “She’s pretty gorgeous.”  
  
      “Out of your league,” he was quick to knock that comment off.  
  
      “You suck.”  
      “Shh, she’s still talking.”

      Continuing on with her memorized speech, Clara announced to the audience, “On this night, we – at Teatro Tammaro – will be showing all of you the best of the best that our theatre has to offer Italy and the world! We have quite a performance tonight,” she paused, then she checked her wristwatch and went on, “though we’re all probably hoping we get out before eleven since we’ve got stuff to do like drinking at a bar or–”  
  
      A loud cough erupted from stage left, interrupting the Spanish woman and as a signal to cut it out.  
  
      “Yeah, I heard you, Bruno. Sorry.” She paid attention back to the audience for a final word for now. “Anyway, without further ado, I present to you our opening duet! Performing together as teacher and student, here is Miss Primrose Bianchi and Antonello Bellomi with ’ _Cinque Dieci_ ’!”  
  
      As she departed the stage, a woman and man in their twenties walked to where Clara once stood, earning an early applause from the audience.

      The woman – known as Primrose Bianchi – wore a long black dress which ruffled at the very bottom of it while donning matching gloves. Her equally black hair was pulled behind her head; though not tightly, but enough to where it would remain in its place. She smiled over to Antonello, a man in a tux and cape, and held out her hand to him.  
  
      As the clapping died, Antonello gingerly held her hand while he felt the slight nervousness he had fade away.  
  
      “He’s probably a newbie…” Yuu whispered to William and Kyou. “He looked kinda nervous, too…”  
  
      “He does?” Kyou quirked an eyebrow. “He doesn’t look like it.”  
  
      “His hands were shaking and his eyes are looking only at the lady.”  
      “Oh, I see.”

      William tilted his head to one side at the couple on stage. After hearing Yuu’s comment, he also took notice at Antonello’s body language. If what Yuu was saying about Antonello being new to this was indeed the truth, Antonello must be panicking on the inside with the fear of screwing up someway or another. Poor guy, William understood what it was like to present yourself for the first time in front of a large group such as this during his days in high school.  
  
      Primrose smiled warmly at Antonello, who then blushed and turned his head away.  
  
        A take of breath broke the deathly silence in the hall. Soon, the voices of an elegant soprano and her tenor companion began with the accompany of the orchestra in the pit.

      When he saw Antonello singing along with his teacher without a worry written in his face or body language, William found himself smiling a little at the sight and soaked in on their duet. Primrose and Antonello sounded _wonderful_ together. The way they held their hands as though they were the perfect couple, how Primrose’s smile refused to leave her porcelain coloured face, and the sparkles in Antonello’s brown eyes while his fringe brushed across his cheeks once in a while.  
  
      …maybe he shouldn’t focus too much on Antonello. Kyou might get the wrong idea and believe he found the male opera singer handsome. Okay, granted, Antonello did look attractive; however, Kyou would probably pester him about it if Antonello had to perform later on into the next hour or two.  
  
      And he damn well knew he wasn’t going to let Kyou do that to him while he tried to enjoy tonight.

 

* * *

 

 

       Antonello sighed heavily as he took a seat in the green room, tossing his cape to his side. Thank God it was over for now. It felt so awkward singing in front of so many. This was definitely different than singing in front of the class, obviously; after all, there was a huge contrast with fifteen and over a hundred people.  
  
        Suddenly, a body practically lunged itself onto him, the arms wrapping around his shoulders, but Antonello didn’t jump like he would’ve done had it been a stranger.  
  
        “You did so well out there, Tony!” Primrose proudly said.  
  
        ’ _Tony_?’ Antonello repeated the new nickname in his mind while he allowed himself to still be held by his teacher and ignored the blush growing onto his cheeks. “Do you honestly think so, Primrose?”  
  
        “Of course! I wouldn’t lie to you, dear.”  
        “Oh, well…thank you.”  
  
        Primrose pulled herself away with a smile. “You’re welcome. At least you get to relax for a bit; I, on the other hand, have to go back on stage in a few minutes.”  
  
        “Solo?”  
        “Three of them.”  
       “Will you be able to relax your voice if you’re doing that?”  
  
        With a laugh, she answered, “I’ve done this before, so I should be all right. Thank you for worrying…” Primrose lifted Antonello’s cape and laid it across her lap as she joined him on the couch. “How did you feel out there?”  
  
        He thought, recollecting how he felt moments ago. Antonello wasn’t – if one had to describe it – completely afraid, but neither was he confident up there at first. His young seventeen-year old heart pounded madly and palms remained clammy until the very end of “ _Cinque Dieci_ ”. Such an embarrassment; however, he knew things could’ve been worse for him…  
  
        “Maybe…” he slowly responded, glancing over to the left in order to avoid Primrose’s stare, “a little nervous, I admit?” He turned back to her as he added, “I wasn’t like that the whole time, though. I got better when were we finished.”  
  
       The soprano bowed her head with a soft giggle as she let a hand touch her chin. “Aww, that’s how _I_ was when I first performed onstage. I’m glad you were well further on. I hope you’ll be okay when you do your solo for the finale, dear…”  
  
        Antonello’s face faltered as soon as he heard that last comment of Primrose whilst his teacher stood and left the room.  
  
       “ _Merda_ ,” he cursed to himself.

 

* * *

 

 

       “Miss Primrose Bianchi has been with Teatro Tammaro since she was eleven-years of age, and ever since then, she has been supporting the theatre as a 'thank you’ for her success,” Clara told the audience with her eyes darting down to her hand where she had scribbled the outline of what she needed to say onwards. “By the way, she’s been recently assigned to perform in an unannounced opera as the main lead, so Tammaro will proudly update on the title of the opera and its dates for anyone to see!”  
  
        Man, it was getting hot underneath this light. Clara whipped her forehead with the back of her unwritten hand.  
  
        “Anyway, here is Miss Bianchi with ’ _Lascia ch'io pianga_ ’!”  
  
        Again, Clara departed from the stage while Primrose proudly drifted to where the Spanish woman once stood. Primrose, instead of making a peep, curtsied with a stunning smile and gentle eyes which might have captured the hearts of a few audience members at the sight.  
  
        “Wow, she’s pretty…” Kyou mumbled, breaking the silence between his friends.  
  
        “Out of your league,” William told him.  
  
        Yuu joined in with a whisper, “Definitely.”  
  
        “I’m sticking your hands in warm water while you’re sleeping tonight,” was Kyou’s threat to the two. A childish one, sure, but kicking them in their shins after they left would’ve been a bit too much.

        The old Steinway piano introduced the song to the attendees for this summer evening and soon was joined by Primrose’s voice – full of innocence and sweetness at the beginning – in perfect harmony. She handled the higher notes with relative ease, for Primrose had been trained to sing in this tone. Primrose finished singing the first section of the song, leaving the piano playing by itself for a moment. She jumped into the song again with the same attitude written in her voice with a hand clasped to her chest and the other sweeping to the side.  
  
        William relaxed in his seat thanks for Primrose’s voice. It was such an odd experience and he wasn’t sure if the woman’s singing, the music, or both was the cause for his shoulders to be free of any pressure upon them. Why on earth didn’t he try going to an opera back in Japan instead of just now doing it?  
  
       His eyes drifted to the pamphlet in his possession and opened it while the other half of his attention was paid to Primrose as she finally completed singing. For most of the programme, a total of five people would perform excerpts with each of them doing two or three songs. In the last thirty minutes, there was a special presentation featuring the students who attended Tammaro for training.  
  


 

**Finale – Tammaro’s Future Stars**

**“Belle nuit, ô nuit d'amour” - Miss Emily Arce and Miss Seung Kim**

**“Sebben, crudele” - Miss Luka Mikhailov**

**“Ch'ella mi creda” - Mister Ken'ichi Camui**

**“Donna e Mobile” - Mister Antonello Bellomi**

 

  
        A tiny flutter shot through his body at the last name displayed. Bellomi was the guy who performed with Bianchi from earlier, was he not? Why did he react that way because of spotting his name? Was it because of how lively his eyes appeared? Could it have been due to his tenor voice spouting Italian in a manner which captivated the rest of the audience? He tilted his head in thought, wondering to himself with a hum.

 

* * *

 

 

        “Tony, are you still in here?”  
  
        Antonello, who was resting on the couch, sat up and saw a handsome Spanish man with curly brown hair and blue eyes step into the room as he held a plastic cooler in one hand. “What on earth is with everyone calling me 'Tony’ all of a sudden?”  
  
        Ignoring the question, Bruno Cardona took a seat beside the Italian boy with a smile. “How are you holding up?”  
  
        “And now everyone is asking how I’m doing. Lord, I wasn’t that nervous…”  
“Sure looked like you were.”  
        “…”  
  
        “Anyway, I brought the drinks,” Bruno announced as he sat the cooler on the tiny coffee table in front of them. He lifted the top then sat it down. “Don’t try drinking too much, though. I heard Primrose scolding you from her dressing room…”  
  
        “You’re nosy,” he huffed.

        Watching Antonello lean forward in pull out a flask from the cooler, Bruno pressed his back against the cool material while tugging his tie loose just as another person began to sing onstage. “I just want to make sure you’ll still be sober when they call you up there.” He frowned for a second in thought, but then he reached over and ruffled Antonello’s soft hair then let his fingers trail behind his neck.  
  
        “You and Primrose worry too much for me, I swear,” he mumbled while giving in to the touches at his neck. Antonello twisted the top off, then tilted his head back and allowed the familiar bitter drink to pour into his dried mouth. Usually, he would’ve added a “keep your hand to yourself” half-heartedly; however, Antonello found himself needing something else to calm his nerves along with the martini he drunk.  
  
        “It’s because you’re still so young,” he explained to Antonello. “We want to make sure you don’t have a breakdown or anything, especially Primrose.”  
Another huff escaped from Antonello at the mention of his age.

        Bruno fell quiet and listened on to the singing and his buddy – Clara – talking once in a while before introducing another performer. The room remained free of any sounds from both men for the following thirty minutes. Meanwhile, thoughts were scattered about in Antonello’s mind during this time. At least with a duet he had Primrose with him, but now he was all alone. Primrose _did_ tell him weeks prior to prepare himself in case he and a few of his classmates had to do solos to meet the “two hour” limit of the programme.

        The thought of a solo in front of hundreds is what caused him to dig into the cooler for another drink. As Bruno watched cautiously, Antonello spotted a jug which was filled to the top and immediately knew this was where he would get the rest of his martini. He would’ve preferred drinking from a glass; in contrast, pouring some into a flask and drinking from that was better than not having a drink at all.  
  
        For you see, when it came to his self-esteem, it was lower than low. Suicide wasn’t a thought to him, nor the act of harming himself; although, he drank quite a bit and was possibly hurting his insides in the process. Minus his loving mother and father, Antonello’s family moaned about how he chose to follow in his mom’s and dad’s footprints and pick up opera as a _career_. They – his other family members – went on and on of how opera was so boring and an annoyance. It did not help that they seemed to enjoy talking about him and his parents behind his back. Those thoughts would find their way back to him whenever he got on stage or had to sing in general.

        “You know, if it’ll make you feel better…” Bruno spoke, “I think you’ll do great out there.” With a nudge of his head, he gestured to the open door of the green room. “Whenever Clara and I are here working, we hear your class for the majority of the time.”  
  
        As Antonello poured some of the martini into his silver flask, his brown eyes glanced to Bruno whose smile softened. Blushing deeply, he turned his head and sat back against the couch. That co-worker for the theatre stirred _something_ inside of him, but he was uncertain of what those feelings _were_. A crush? N–no, it couldn’t be. He was too young for the twenty-five year old, anyway. Besides, he was probably taken.  
  
        “You’re such a bloody sap. I–it’s not like you’re making me feel better about the situation…”  
  
       Bruno’s smile widened as he chuckled. “If you say so.”

 

* * *

 

 

        The audience clapped as a Japanese man with long black hair – which was pulled back into a low ponytail with a white strip of cloth – bowed and left the stage with a sigh of relief written on his feminine face. Clara arrived to where a Mister Camui stood and performed fantastically.  
  
        “Thank you to Mister Camui for his take on ’ _Ch'ella mi creda_ ’!” Clara cleared her throat – glad she drank a glass of water while she waited for Camui to finish – then checked the writing on her hand. Shit, the top part was smudged…  
  
        Oh well. There was only one more performance and then she’d wrap things up. Easy.  
  
        “As a closing performance,” Clara started as she decide to brush away the rest of the words on her hand by rubbing the palm onto the right side of her dress, “we’re going to bring out our splendid tenor from earlier in the program. Just like the other four before him, this is Bellomi’s first time being up here on his own, so please make him feel at home!”  
  
        William felt his hands hold onto the paper bill tighter as his cheeks lightly flushed, and he hoped Kyou didn’t notice his odd behaviour. He was such a shy person, so maybe the dork beside him will assume he’s feeling awkward being around so many people at once.  
  
        Kyou glanced to Yuu, whispering, “Did you still want to go to the arcade afterwards?”

        “No,” the boy whispered back in response, “I’m hungry. Can we go eat when it’s over?”  
  
        “Even better. I’ll ask Wil.”  
        “Okay.”  
  
        “Hey, Wil–…” Kyou was turning to face William; however, he paused when he took notice of William’s face as Clara introduced an “Antonello Bellomi” out loud. His cheeks were turning a shade of red as the room was filled with clapping. The brown haired man glanced ahead just when Antonello Bellomi walked onstage as the orchestra played one more time.  
  
        Antonello, in the meantime, refrained himself from wanting to vomit under the eyes of the audience. ’ _Merda_ ,’ he thought, _'I wish I could’ve had more to drink until I didn’t care anymore…_ ’  
  
        He tried. He tried his best to keep Bruno’s words in his mind. Primrose had given him another hug before he was called out here, whispering into his ear about letting himself go. She wanted to make sure he did not hold himself back from singing at full power.

        Ah, those familiar notes of “ _Donna e Mobile_ ” sounded. The Italian boy closed his eyes and took a breath of fresh air. Opera, this was something he enjoyed. If this was the absolute truth, then he should prove to these strangers and Primrose his admiration through his voice.  
  
        And he did.  
  
        William – not realizing he was being occasionally watched by Kyou – could tell that a smile crossed his lips. He had seen a nervous look on Antonello’s face, but William felt relief at it vanishing in an instant once he sang without fear and so powerfully.  
  
        Kyou was impressed at the mature voice coming from a guy who was probably their age, but he kept glancing to William in order to see his friend’s expression. “Wil,” he called his name in a hushed tone. When William quickly made a “hmm” as his eyes remained on Antonello, Kyou asked with a smirk, “Antonello is a pretty good singer, isn’t he?”  
  
        A chill shot up his spine as Antonello hit a higher note, but William made certain to reply to Kyou. “Yeah…”  
  
        “Is he pretty?”  
        “Y–yeah?”  
        “Got the hots for him?”  
  
        William shot a heavy glare, his ears and neck burning at the suggestion.

        “I’m kicking your ass later.”  
        “ _So_ worth it.”  
  
        Antonello – at long, _long_ last – released the final notes to the song, ignoring how hard his heart beat against his chest. Oh thank God his voice neither cracked or wavered when it didn’t need to. When the music ended, his ears were filled with clapping and a few cheers all around him. Not used to this sort of attention, Antonello flushed, bowed calmly, and left the stage without a glance to the audience.  
  
        “Thank you, thank you all!” Clara immediately thanked the group once they calmed themselves. With a wave of her hand, she said, “And so, we’ve reached the end of the summer showcase. I hope you’ve had a wonderful time! Tammaro has booked a nearby restaurant – Bronze Frog – and is open for anybody to join us for food, free of charge!” She curtsied. “Have a nice night!”  
  
        With one last applaud – including loud “whoops” from a red haired girl in a box with her two cousins – from everybody, the showcase came to a close. William slowly recovered from the embarrassing questions from Kyou to look down at his bill, staring at Antonello’s name. He couldn’t point out why as of yet still, but there was something about Antonello which captured him and refused to release him.

 

* * *

 

 

**to be concluded**


	2. Two Shy Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After arriving to Italy in celebration of graduating high school with his friends (Kyo Tsukino and Yuu Koizumi), William Mori had the honour of seeing an opera performance; in addition, he laid eyes upon the newcomer singer, Antonello Bellomi -- a rather handsome young man, though hesitant. During this time, Antonello is still in disbelief by getting a large round of applause and positive reception of his performance even when he worried about failing Primrose and Teatro Tammaro.

* * *

 

 

 **N** ames:  
**W** illiam Mori - Wil  
**K** you **T** sukino - Kyo  
**Y** uu **K** oizumi - Yuu  
**A** ntonello **B** ellomi - Tonio  
**P** rimrose **B** ianchi - Prima

 

* * *

 

       Antonello mentally sighed in relief as he sat back and began to drink a martini – the way it was _meant_ to be drunken – as he used his left hand to tug at his tie until he felt the material loosen around him.

       He, the other members of Teatro Tammaro, and quite a few of the viewers from tonight’s showcase arrived at Bronze Frog less than thirty minutes ago. Antonello found himself sitting at a table which he was sharing with Primrose and whoever else wished to join the teacher and student. His parents – who hugged and kissed him as soon as they ran into him after the performance – were laughing and chatting with other parents of his classmates in a large booth to the corner of the restaurant. Primrose, in the meantime, went to the table where Tammaro’s owners and co-owners were, including Bruno and his “buddy” – although, people have been speculating about the two Spanish adults being a couple – Clara.

       Antonello felt hungry, his stomach growling once in a while or cramping tightly, but he didn’t have the urge to order food like Primrose had done for herself. Granted, he could’ve taken advantage of this whole “free of charge” casually announced by Tammaro and Clara; however, drinking his favourite alcoholic drink as much as he wanted was a better option than merely eating.

     How did he feel, though, since he finally sung out in the open in front of hundreds? In honesty, Antonello was glad to have gotten it over with while also proving he was serious about taking a step into the opera world. With a sense of hopefulness, the brown eyed teen hoped the people who attended tonight thought he sounded all right, at least. That was when he remembered the loud cheering and clapping for him when he was done with “ _Donna e Mobile_ ” and his ears rung while his cheeks were brushed with a soft shade of crimson. Good Lord, then there was Primrose who had hugged him even tighter than his parents once he entered the green room to freshen up.

       She was so happy, so proud of him. Primrose was actually proud of him than she have been prior to this night. Her reaction was so pure, not fake like his other family members probably would’ve showed if they were there.

       His gaze softened as he slowly drank the remaining liquid in his glass.

 

* * *

 

       “This place must have a lot of money to flash if they’re offering to pay for everything,” Yuu commented as he scooped a part of lasagna with his spoon.

       “Kind of convenient for us, considering we’re just ‘little ol’ tourists’ from overseas and need to save our money for other stuff,” was Kyou’s reply.

       “It’s a nice gesture…” William added to what Yuu said. A part of his fringe fell into his left eye’s view, so he carefully lifted a hand to brush it to the side while he jabbed his fork into his dish of _pollo alla cacciatora_ for a moment. “I guess…we should take advantage of it while we’re here. Right?”

       Kyou nodded as he raised his fork. “Very true. Heck, even I’ll take 'advantage’ of this!” he added, gesturing down to the meat-free dish in front of him. Even though Kyou was a vegetarian, the oldest of the three teens was still able to eat well and deliciously as they ate here. He was thankful for this.

       William looked around the packed restaurant, not really used to the liveliness of people as much as Yuu and Kyou. Besides the bright laughter from some who might have had too much to drink already, others chattered into the night with no hint of stopping any time soon. His eyes then drifted further right of the establishment until he spotted somebody at a table by himself.

       Antonello Bellomi.

       He seemed relaxed; though, upon squinting his eyes to view Antonello better, the opera singer was deep in thought with his pretty eyes half-lidded. His fingers were barely touching the now empty glass, letting them twirl around on the brim of it. Another drink was brought to Antonello’s table, its owner thanking the waitress gently.

       Kyou nudged Yuu, whispering to the blonde, “Wil’s checking out his crush again.”

       “…” Yuu said nothing at first, taking a sip of the _Montepulciano d'Abruzzo_ wine he wanted to try out, but then he calmly replied, “He _is_ attractive, Kyou. His voice is pretty mature, too.”

       He cocked a brow at that. “Well,” he said, “since you guys said it about me with Clara and Bianchi…Antonello is way, _way_ out of both of your leagues.”

       “I know he is, but thanks for telling me. Wil doesn’t seem to care, though.”  
       “I know. He’s too absorbed in Mister Pretty Boy Opera Singer.”

       They immediately looked at William who still kept his eyes on the Italian boy.

       This was awkward to be doing. Kyou might have seen nothing wrong with staring at somebody without them realizing it, but William knew better about being nosy. He couldn’t stop watching Antonello, even as Primrose hurried her way to the table to talked to him for a few seconds. William scrunched an eyebrow when Primrose frowned and worriedly placed a hand to Antonello’s forehead.

       Through the noise of everything else, William could’ve sworn he heard Antonello say, “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

 

* * *

 

       “Dear, you don’t _look_ fine,” Primrose retorted in protest with her worry for her student never leaving her. “You need to stop drinking, at least. I don’t want you to get sick…!”

       But, Antonello refused to listen. “Primrose, I’m just a little warm! It’s summer, remember?”

       “…do we need to talk?”  
       “No.”  
       “Dear, please…”

       His brown eyes lifted to look directly into Primrose’s gorgeous green pair. Calmly, he tried saying in assurance, “Primrose, please listen to me. I’m not sick, I’m not experiencing another shot to my self-esteem, I’m not dealing with anything _like_ that. I’ll be all right, _I promise_.”

       The gentle but sad smile crossing his teacher’s face caused a twinge in his chest at the sight, then it worsened as she leaned in and wrapped her bare arms around his waist. “Alright,” she mumbled into his hair. “I’ll come over here in a minute and eat with you, okay?”

       Above a whisper, he replied with an, “Okay,” before Primrose pulled away.

       “Remember, I’m proud of your performance from this night. I’m not saying this as your teacher, but as a friend and as a professional.”

       A heavy blush came to Antonello’s cheeks as he nodded and looked away, grabbing his martini. He felt a hand brush his forehead one more time then heard Primrose walk away from the table. He let himself sigh and place a hand over his eyes. Why was he feeling so weird? It wasn’t a flu or a cold. Perhaps this was an emotional reaction. He wasn’t the type who complained that emotions showed weakness even though he didn’t show his own in public that much…

       He was going to need a few more drinks. Seven glasses didn’t work as much as they used to.

 

* * *

 

       “He looks sad,” Yuu spoke up, breaking the silence between the trio.

       “I feel nosy watching him, but yeah…he looks upset,” Kyou agreed.

       William tilted his head to one side and thought. Antonello’s appearance read “overwhelmed” more than “sad” or “depressed”. He would know since he felt like that after exams and his own first performance in the music group he was in with Kyou and Yuu. While he made certain to do it in private in order for his two friends didn’t notice, he _did_ let his emotions show when he was by himself.

       “Maybe he couldn’t handle all of that attention?” William suggested, capturing the attention of the two with him.

       “Not used to attention?” Kyou blinked, then he looked from William to Antonello with a hum in thought. Observing how Antonello’s body gave a slight quiver and the pale colour of his skin – besides the heavy flush in his cheeks and ears – gave Kyou an example of how the Italian was feeling. “Oh, he’s probably really shy, too.”

       Yuu, after finishing his wine, glanced over to Antonello. “Poor guy…”

       “Anyway,” Kyou decided to change topic as a method to not feel bad any longer, “wanna order some dessert?”

       “Think you’ll be able to?”  
       “I’m a vegetarian, not a vegan, you little butt.”

       William sighed through his nose and finally looked away from Antonello. He hoped he would be okay; after all, it wasn’t best to keep feelings locked up like that. From what he and the others picked up, Primrose was going to join him at the table in a “few” minutes, so he won’t be alone for longer. A part of him debated about going over there despite being shy himself.

       But for now, he’ll leave him be.

 

* * *

 

       It was five minutes after Primrose came and talked to him when three martinis sat in front of him, not yet drunken, as Antonello unbuttoned the first three buttons of his dress shirt. Once he was done, he grabbed a glass and downed its contents without a second thought. He didn’t care if anyone saw him drinking in such an inappropriate manner at the moment. Antonello simply wanted to numb his thoughts through killing his brain cells with the assistance of alcohol.

       Quickly, he grabbed the next martini and let it pour directly into his mouth. Aah, that bitter taste was so good, so _orgasmic_ to him. Please, let this last drink on the table push him to that limit of being in a complete drunken form…

       God, he wished Primrose came back, he truly did; however, she was being held up by the owners who wouldn’t stop calling her over in order to discuss something in regards to Teatro Tammaro. He hoped – a part of him hoped – his parents or Bruno arrived to his table to see what was up. He seriously couldn’t handle his irrational feelings right now. He couldn’t withstand this swelling emotion growing inside because of all of this positive…

       As soon as he finished the third glass, Antonello rose from his seat and walked off. He was having a hard time walking with nearly bumping into waiters and others who came to eat and drink tonight, but he didn’t fall like he assumed he would do. Maybe the alcohol _was_ getting to him.

       “I was thinking about getting a gelato,” Kyou said out loud as he browsed the menu in his hands. “What about you guys?”

       Yuu hummed softly, thinking. William had already chosen a dessert and looked up to tell Kyou until Antonello stumbled off behind Kyou and Yuu, heading towards the restrooms in the back.

       “Wil?”

       “Yeah?” He blinked, immediately looking at the brown-haired boy beside him.

       “What are you gonna get for dessert?”  
       “I guess…these angel wings. Did you find something you can eat–”  
       “Not a _vegan_ … _vegetarian_. Don’t be a butt like Yuu.”

       “By the way,” William told him, “I need to wash my hands and use the toilet. Can you order the food?”

       Kyou nodded. “Sure.”

       “Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

       William felt awkward for coming into here when he knew Antonello wandered or – in this case – waddled his way into here, but now was a good time to see if Antonello was okay. Well, this was what he thought as he washed his hands until he heard vomiting coming behind one of the tall stalls. Three loud coughs soon followed the disgusting sound splashing in a toilet.

       “…” The automatic sink turned off the water as William dried his hands with a paper towel. Carefully, and after he tossed the used towel in the rubbish bin, he turned around and asked, “Are you okay?” For once, he was glad his voice was so gentle since a tone like that was needed.

       Another cough came from the same stall, but then a voice choked out, “I think so.”

       He frowned. “You don’t sound like you will be. Did you need help?”

       Silence.

       There was a flush, then the lock on the stall clicking, and the door creaked open. William saw Antonello step out, pale and his eyes red. Not a trace of vomit could be found on him; however, all the other stalls were empty, leaving Antonello to be the only person who could’ve been vomiting all this time.

       “I’ll be fine,” Antonello responded weakly. “I’m only a little drunk…”

       William watched Antonello stumble to a sink and cup his hands to activate the water. “Was tonight your first time singing in front of people?”

       Oh, so this man was in the audience. Antonello decided to answer, “Yes, it was,” then he splashed the cold water onto his face. “Well, actually, it’s my first time singing in front of _that many_ people.”

       “Oh.”  
       “…”

       With a smile, William told him, “You were wonderful.”

       He looked over at the Japanese – he thought he was – boy. “I was?” he murmured in a questioning manner. “Really?”

       William nodded. “Yeah. My friends and I came to see an opera performance, and when I heard you, I was…” he paused. Not only did he not want to rush things, but he also had difficulty explaining _what_ he felt upon hearing Antonello’s voice. He had felt warm, soothed, captivated by the tenor.

       …yeah, probably the best not to say that to him.

       “I was moved by it,” he chose to say, praying it didn’t sound weird.

       Antonello threw water into his face once again, then he grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser to his right and wiped his face dry. This was the first time a stranger came to him and say such a thing. The compliment caused a blush to return, but he tried to brush it off as being too drunk.

       Meanwhile, if he and Antonello _did_ share the same experience of suffering by becoming overwhelmed due to too much attention or praise, William had a feeling he should say something to make the Italian singer calm.

       “How did you feel up there on the stage?”

       He licked his lips while mentally cringing at the disgusting taste still in his mouth. “I…was a tad nervous – a _tad_ – but I got over it,” he responded with hesitation. Antonello hoped this guy didn’t think he was weak or anything.

       His smile quirked as he asked, “Did you imagine everyone in the nude?”

       “N–no, I wouldn’t do that!” Antonello’s blush deepened, adding, “Especially with my mum and dad in the audience.”

       William laughed softly and apologized, “Sorry.”

       “…it’s quite all right.”  
       “Are you sure you don’t need help or anything, Mister Bellomi?”

       Knowing that his name was plastered two or three times on the programme bill, Antonello wasn’t taken back by the Japanese man calling him by his surname. His brown eyes gazed from the mirror and to him. “I’m sure. I think I’ll get over this, Mister…”

       “Mori,” William offered his last name to him, then also added, “William Mori. It’s nice to meet you, and I hope you’ll become one of the greatest opera singers.”

       Antonello stood up straight, his ears and neck burning hot from William’s thoughtful words. “E–erm, I…?” He looked away in order to avoid staring into the other boy’s mellow eyes. With an embarrassed mumble, he said, “I–I’m not sure I’ll be able to accomplish such a thing; however…thank you.”

       “You will. If you wanna hang out with me and my friends, we’re at one of the tables near you. Bye…”

       Feet walking across the tile floor, and then the door opening and closing was the signal for Antonello to finally look at his reflection in the mirror. The usual shade of scarlet covered most of his face and parts of his eyes. His hair wasn’t in a mess like he had worried it would’ve been since he was bent over a toilet for minutes on end before coming out. Antonello allowed his hands to run across his reddened cheeks whilst his eyes softened.

       That man who had talked to him appeared to be shy, so it was probably hard for him to talk, but Mori – William Mori, perhaps – seemed relaxed talking to him. He must have known what was going through his mind. Maybe Mori felt the same way at one point. It…sure felt like he might have dealt with overwhelming attention, the feeling of being so _exposed_ in front of others when he had been closed-in for most of his life.

       “…” Antonello glanced at the shut restroom door, and then he looked at his reflection once more.

 

* * *

 

       “Tony! There you are!” Primrose’s bright smile soon dropped when Antonello walked closer to her. “Oh no…” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

       “I threw up, but…” he replied quiet enough for only his teacher to hear, “I’ll feel better soon.”

       “Dear, you drunk more while I was being dragged back and forth by the owners, weren’t you?”  
       “…alright, I admit it. I was.”  
       “I knew it.”

       “Primrose,” he asked her, “can we sit somewhere else?”

       She blinked. “Well, sure. Did you have a spot in particular?”

       He, upon Primrose’s curiosity, blushed in embarrassment yet again. “Yes, actually…it’s not far from our original spot. And d–don’t laugh when we get over there.”

       Primrose blinked again, but then smiled. She could tell his attitude was improving for the better. What a relief. “I won’t. Promise.”

 

* * *

 

       “Can I have a piece?”  
       “Yuu, you know you can order your own for free–”  
       “I know, but I want to make sure I like gelato. Don’t want to waste it.”

       William, picking up his spoon, join in on pestering Kyou. “Let me have a piece, Kyou.”

       “At least Yuu _asked_ ,” Kyou huffed with annoyance. “You’re _demanding_ me.”

       “Please?”  
       “…fine. One scoop _only_ , guys.”

       As his two high school graduate buddies took a slice of the mint coloured gelato, a woman came to the table with one carrying a plate of food while she kept an arm securely around the waist of a boy who might have had too much to drink. At once, Kyou realized it was Primrose Bianchi and her student/William’s crush, Antonello Bellomi.

       “Excuse me, gentlemen,” Primrose spoke up which immediately caught the attention of William and Yuu, “would it be okay if we were to sit with you?”

       Kyou restrained a grin wanting to come out. **_God_** , this was so cheesy because he knew where this could possibly lead William and Antonello. He had seen William enter the restroom then exiting seconds before the tenor. There was a chance that they could’ve talked for a brief moment. “What do you guys think?” he asked the two.

       Yuu nodded, busy savouring the cold treat.

       William shyly smiled at Antonello and Primrose, the former huffing quietly and turning his head away with a blush returning to his olive-coloured skin. “Sure.”

       Bianchi and Bellomi grabbed the chairs from the former table they sat and joined the trio. Antonello decided not to have another thing to drink due to the fear of emptying the rest of whatever was in his stomach; however, he ate a little of something to subside anymore urges to vomit. Primrose, in the meantime, began a conversation with Kyou who couldn’t have been any more happier with talking to such a beauty whose personality was incredibly gentle. Once in a while, Yuu would make a snarky comment with his default calm face, causing a few giggles from Primrose as Kyou stepped on his toes underneath the table.

       “I’m feeling better,” Antonello said to the man beside him at the table.

       “That’s good,” William responded. “You looked like you were going to cry in there.”

       “…I–I merely had tears in my eyes because I was coughing a lot.”  
       “Oh.”  
       “…thank you for your concern, though.”

       William felt a smile crossing his lips, his eyes softening at him. “You’re welcome, Mister Bellomi. You know,” he suddenly changed the subject, “I think opera’s a nice genre.”

       “I think so, too,” he confessed. “That’s a reason why I joined the opera class at Tammaro; in addition, my parents love it too, but they told me to follow whatever path I want…” with a glance, he finished his sentence, saying, “which is opera. I…enjoy it on a personal level.”

       “Do you like it?”  
       “Of course.”

       “About earlier, I still think you’ll do great in opera to make it big time,” William told him.

       His brown eyes stared at him, but they quickly darted down to his plate as his ears rung. “…”

       He couldn’t stop smiling at the look on Antonello’s – and he wasn’t afraid to admit it – lovely face. Because he had fixed himself up in the restroom, his face wasn’t as pale, nor were his eyes completely red. His lashes weren’t too long, but they were easy to spot if somebody was close enough to him. Good God, did he have to describe every thing about Antonello? The boy was pretty! That’s all that needed to be said.

       And what ran through his mind while he tried not creeping Antonello out about the Italian’s voice was true. He had felt his shoulders lighten, the fatigue of jet-lag departed, and…there was something so captivating of him as an entirety.

       He…he was developing a liking for him, wasn’t he?

       William took a breath of air and released it through his nose. He grabbed his drink and sipped it, letting his realization take hold of him. He might as well accept it instead of denying the fact.

       Antonello had similar thoughts run through his mind. He found William interesting, but also a sweet man. He kept smiling at him whenever he looked back, so there was a chance William liked him. Why, though?

       “Why?” indeed. Instead of focusing too much on conflicting feelings, William and Antonello continued conversing into the late hours with the occasional blush of embarrassment from Antonello and William laughing softly. For now, they’ll slowly build their acquaintances, which should be easy because they shared similar traits; although, they weren’t aware of this as of yet.

       And this was how William Mori met Antonello Bellomi. Two months later, they would become best friends with William and his buddies deciding to stay in Italy for the time being. A year later was when they would come to Bronze Frog after the summer showcase, sit at the same table, and William would be surprised with a kiss on the lips by Antonello who was as red as the wine Primrose drank.

 

* * *

 

**end**

 

 


End file.
